This morning I’ve been feeling a bit disgruntled for various reasons: Firstly, Chris didn’t open the curtains fully when he brought me my cup of tea in bed (crime of the century!); then, when I drew back the curtains, it was grey and windy outside; thirdly, Chris blamed me for his lack of progress with his work on the house (because I always want to go out cycling when it’s nice), and he intimated that I spend so much time on my computer (and blog) that we don’t get to bed early enough in order to wake up earlier and go cycling before breakfast (therefore giving us both more time for our work and recreation); fourthly, when the clouds cleared after our slight discord, and the sun enticed, as you might imagine, I didn’t feel able to suggest a ride on our bikes and I felt the loss terribly; fifthly, Chris lost my Internet banking card, which I had given him for safe-keeping – in fact he had no memory… of me giving it to him; sixthly (if there is such a word), I spent nearly all the rest of the morning hunting, futilely,for my card, and the search reminded me that I really should go through everything and have a big “chuck out”. It galled me to think of the utter waste of time that would have been much better spent cycling.

If only I had done things differently… if only I had gone to bed earlier last night and awoken at seven or even six o’clock (like I do when I’m in Australia); perhaps for a change I should have got up and dressed before making Chris a cup of tea (he would have fainted) – maybe then he would have been in a more cheery mood, or I would have been happier, and he might not have been so critical, or I might not have taken his words as being critical. If only I had not been dieting and had chosen a breakfast of toast instead of oaty groats similar to that which you find in a horse’s nosebag… I might have said:

“Come on, how often does the sun shine? Let’s go out!”

Yes, if only, in the very least, I had said that… I would not have been so disgruntled.

As a matter of fact, the sun is still shining. We forgot the diet and had a crumpet and toast for lunch; I found the twenty-four hour phone number for people with lost Internet banking cards; I’m planning to go to Zumba class, followed by a gym session, this evening, and I still have the whole afternoon for painting.

“Huh,” Chris puffed before kissing me goodbye and going to the shops.

“Huh,” I imitated and kissed him back.

To be honest I find that I’m not really disgruntled at all; on the contrary, I’m quite gruntled, as odd as that may sound. I have often wondered if the word gruntled exists and today I looked it up. I’m not sure if I shall use it often – listeners might conjure up a mental picture of a pig (now all you pig farmers please don’t take offence) – but I’m gruntled to learn of its existence (because I’m that snort of person).